


Ravishment

by thebadnut



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Rape Roleplay, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebadnut/pseuds/thebadnut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavros feels empowered; Gamzee feels terrified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ravishment

“I, uh, I don’t know if – if this is, um, safe, exactly, Gam.” It’s taken almost five minutes of Gamzee explaining to Tavros (in a manner that’s not quite detailed due to his constant looping of sentences, but at the same time incredibly explicit) the concept of SLARPing – sexy live action roleplaying, and another five minutes of his hinting at a scenario in which someone could actually get hurt before Tavros works up the nerve to speak.

“You just – I mean, I know that, um, mature trolls and, uh, people like – people like Serket -- ” he shudders distinctively at the name alone – “are kind of… kind of kinky that way, but, um, I’m not sure that…”

He sort of partially trails off, and that’s enough for Gamzee to cut in with a relaxing drawl. “My brother, that’s exactly the motherfucking reason why you’d be so good at it. We both know you’d never really hurt a motherfucker.”

Tavros nods slowly. “That’s true. I’d, uh, never hurt anyone, even if he were, um, inclined to fucking mothers.”

Gamzee grins assuringly. “And that’s also why we’ll have a motherfuckin’ safe-word all poised and ready to slip outta these wicked lips if things get outta hand.”

His tone suggests that this isn’t a matter that Tavros is going to be able to wriggle out of. “I don’t know if -- I, um, I’ve never – never even imagined forcing myself on someone, how would I even -- ”

Gamzee laughs. He laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world, and maybe a little bit like he’s some kind of easy grub, cozying up to a highblood. “Use your motherfuckin’ imagination, Tav, I’m sure a bull like you can think of something.” And with that, it’s decided.

With a sudden movement, he straddles Tavros. Tavros is reclining on a not-particularly-comfortable-looking couch, as he finds his legs tiresome after too much usage. Tavros doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, Gamzee is content to just sit there, moving his hips in the tiniest of slow circles.

Then, he draws a horn out of nowhere, honks it in the Taurus’s face.

Tavros furrows his brow, thinking hard for a moment, before a hand shoots out, grasping the clown’s wrist. “Uh, you really should respect personal space, um, G – grub.” He’s about to say Gamzee, but at the very last second it simply sounds entirely too personal for the situation. “Someone could get, um, get offended.”

Gamzee’s dopey demeanor is hardly scuffed; he leans closer to the bull, casually shaking his hand free. “Tavros, my man, you’re not the sort to get all worked on up over about space.” He’s smiling; he’s playing along, goading Tavros.

Tavros is surprised; he thought they’d be taking roles of two who hardly knew one another, if at all. However, a moment’s consideration leads him to conclude that it will be more realistic this way. And, um, why exactly do we want fake-rape to be realistic? He ignores his sense of rationale, and pushes forward, figuratively and literally. He’s rewarded with a surprised sound from Gamzee as his ‘seat’ is nearly pulled from under him.

“There are, uh, breaking points that need to be, um, addressed.” Tavros is gaining momentum. Gamzee is a little bit pleased that Tavros’s faltering speech is sort of adding to the effect rather than taking away from it. He sounds a little bit like Troll Joker, another fantastic motherfucking clown like Gamzee himself, though significantly less chill.

Gamzee gives a little push of his own. “Nothing around over here seems broken or breaking or anything, Tav. I don’t know what you’re gettin’ at, my brother.”

Tavros hates that he keeps having to stop and think – wonder – what would someone who was actually angry do? He reaches out and with two sharp fingernails, pinches Gamzee’s mouth shut.

“You, um, stop arguing with me, and just listen.”

And yet, in spite of his efforts, Gamzee is still acting like it’s all just a game (it is) and smiles even around his pinched lips. “C’mon, Tav – “

“Stop calling me Tav,” the bull growls, and this is the first moment where Gamzee is legitimately shocked. “I’m not your little friend, that you can bestow cutesy little, um, fucking nicknames on,” he continues.

Gamzee’s settled from his initial alarm. “Haha, Tav, I’ll admit that was pretty motherfucking – “

And suddenly, there’s pain. Clawed fingers have released his lips in favor of seizing both the base of his right horn and a handful of the hair that’s growing there. Gamzee is yanked forward, and he lets out a sharp little hiss that doesn’t at all flow with his general demeanor.

“Uh, it’d be really fucking, um, funny, to see what happens if you say ‘Tav’ again.” Tavros giggles sharply, and oddly enough, Gamzee can’t quite bring himself to giggle in response.

“Yeah, it probably would, but you know, sometimes a motherfucker just needs to really get his serious on.”

Tavros essentially sneers; it’s an expression that looks strange on his face. “That’s, mm, exactly what I thought you’d say. Good boy.”

Gamzee smiles weakly and tugs a little away from Tavros’ hand, as if testing the grip. “Yeah, so, mind letting go of a brother’s – “

“Do you, um, want to be an even better boy?”

The clown is silent, listening, and with a small part of him, recoiling. Tavros shifts, and gogdamn if his years of wheelchair use haven’t given him some bitching upper arm strength, because he has no problem pulling Gamzee closer even though Gamzee is secretly trying to anchor himself to the couch.

“Want to hear a, um, story, you little grub?”

Tavros shakes his hand so that Gamzee sort of looks like he’s nodding.

“Once upon a fucking time, there was a, um, highblood who was really good, um, friends with a dirtblood.” In a singularly terrifying act, Tavros pricks the thumbpad of his free hand with the claw of his middle finger, and makes a show of smearing the blood on Gamzee’s cheek. “Can you, um, guess who these two were?”

Gamzee gives a little shrug. “Motherfuckers sound kinda like you and me, Tav – “

Yank.

“Um, Tavros.”

Tavros smiles, and even though he sees the same sharp-toothed grin in the mirror every day, and every time he an Tav are slinging sick raps back and forth, Gamzee has to admit that this time, it’s rather unsettling.

“They were the, um, best of bros. They chilled together, and popped cool ones together, and even when the dirtblood became, uh, incapacitated, the highblood still vowed to be his bro. The brothers even, um, fucked, they were so gogdamn close.”

Gamzee nodded, this time of his own free will. “Sounds like a pretty motherfuckin’ chill broship these two have going on.”

Tavros growls, and tugs Gamzee closer still. “But you know what the dirtblood thought? Maybe they weren’t really, um, bros. Why would a highblood stick with a brown-veined, um, grub through all of that? Highbloods are awfully, um, condescending and cruel.”

“Well, yeah, but not every motherfucker is – “

“I’m not, um, finished yet.” Somehow, the deadly quiet tone is even more unnerving than any sort of shout.

“So the dirtblood got to thinking. Why would a, mm, highblood go through all of this? Why do you think, um, grub?”

Gamzee opens his mouth, but Tavros doesn’t give him time to speak.

“To, um, tease the dirtblood. Make fun of him. After all, dirtbloods are supposed to be, um, the lower species? The dumb ones? And this highblood thought he was really, um, clever. The dirtblood would never catch on. But guess what?”

Tavros’s hand comes up to Gamzee’s jaw, forcing it open, and he mouths the one-word question alongside his pal.

“I caught on.”

Gamzee’s eyes are wide, and his eyes are clearer than they’ve ever been, looking barely touched by the sopor. “Jegus, Tav, that was really convincing and all, but I don’t think a brother really gets the whole non-consensual part of the SLARP and shit, and…”

He notices Tavros has gone quiet.

“What did I say about calling me Tav?”

“Uh, not to, my man, but you just – “

“Mm, what did I say about calling me Tav?”

Gamzee realizes he’s being literal, and wracks his memory. “That… it’d be… motherfucking funny? If I did it again?”

Tavros’s face twists.

“Close.”

Gamzee sighs.

“But, I said it would be, uh, funny to see what, um, happens.”

“A motherfucker can’t – “

“Um, shut your gogdamn mouth, or I’ll, um, sew it shut.” Tavros’s head is lowered, and he’s looking up at Gamzee. Gamzee’s instincts tell him to back off immediately, because no matter how well he knows the Taurus, no matter how close they are, this is a bull with its horns lowered, and that is always, always a threat. So, naturally, he attempts to scramble backwards away from Tavros. Tavros’s grip on his horn, however, hasn’t let up, and so he ends up more on his knees than in any sort of fleeing position.

“You, uh, seem to have read my, um, mind.”

Gamzee takes a moment to process this.

“You motherfucking don’t mean – “

“Undo my pants.”

Gamzee stares.

“With your mouth, only. I’ll, um, remove any hands if they enter the, um, equation.”

The clown swallows and flicks his eyes forward. He’s done this dozens of times; perhaps not with his mouth, exactly, but there’s no reason he should be feeling so motherfucking small. 

Gamzee leans forward, sharp teeth catching on a zipper and pulling gently.

“I like the way your, um, ass looks, all sticking out when you’re, uh, down there.”

The hint of a purple flush comes to Gamzee’s face. Tavros never compliments his ass – it’s almost embarrassing, more than flattering.

“Go, uh, faster. Move.”

He finds himself hurrying without even thinking about it. Granted, Gamzee generally doesn’t really spend much time thinking about much of anything, but nor is he ever so automatic.

“You’re, um, slow. Boring. Come back up here, instead.” And that legitimately stings; the undertone of worthlessness, to be slow enough that Tavros isn’t even interested in having his bulge sucked.

Or, perhaps, he’s simply thought of a better idea.

“Lick my, um, horns. Don’t, um, bump it with your teeth, or you won’t have any.”

Gamzee hesitates, then lazily slides upwards, wrapping his lips around the base of Tav’s left horn. Really, this wasn’t any sort of intense foreplay; if they degenerated into normal sex, he wouldn’t exactly complain. To encourage this possibility, he focuses on the Taurus’s horn, saliva pooling under his tongue to be spread over the ridges and grooves on it. He licks outward, kissing gently at the inner curve and suckling on the tip. He’s sure to be vocal; Tavros likes it when he moans and slurps no matter where exactly he’s paying attention to.

Tavros is rubbing little circles on his hips, and he’s almost calmed down from the earlier ordeal.

Then, he slips, bumping the point of a single tooth against the curve of Tavros’s horn, and he’s suddenly squealing as black nails dig into his sides.

They’ve pierced right through his shirt and the top of his pants, and as Tavros snarls and rips his hands free, Gamzee’s clothing is showing a little bit more skin than is decent. Tavros shoves him off of his lap, letting go completely this time, and follows him down. Gamzee’s scrambling, though he’s not entirely sure why, and he has a tiny inner mantra of it’s just Tavros it’s just motherfuckin’ Tavros, my brother Tavros playing in the back of his mind.

As Tavros headbutts him, knocking him to the ground again, and pulls his bulkier form over the clown, he’s finding that mantra difficult to acknowledge.

“What did I say? What did I, uh, tell you? You’re just, mm, breaking all the rules, here, there’s another thing to add to the list of, uh, broken things…”

“Tav, it was an accident, brother, I’m – “

“And here’s one more.”

Gamzee’s wrists are pinned against his back with one of Tavros’s hands – the other hand is sliding his polka-dotted pants down with no difficulty whatsoever – he’s on his stomach, and Tavros is above him, and why the motherfuck is Tavros so angry? This was just supposed to be a game –

And he isn’t even stretched or anything, and suddenly, there’s a bulge in his nook, moving in and out mercilessly. And Tavros is pretty motherfucking well-endowed for such a quiet guy, and gogdamn if it doesn’t hurt like hell. Tavros is half moaning, half growling in his ear, and it’s with a start that he realizes there’s purple running down his cheeks.

“Tavros – Tavros – stop -- mirthful – mirthful mess – “

Tavros halts.

He doesn’t pull out, he simply freezes. He hadn’t expected things to progress to the point where the safe-word would even be considered.

“Gamzee?”

Gamzee turns his head, exposing his neck. Tavros notes the purple welling up in his unusually alert eyes.

“…nothing.”

There’s a pause. Then Tavros grins. Leans forward. Licks the purple tears, bites, and comes.

\--

They don’t SLARP again for a very long time, and they’re never going to enact another rape fantasy. Gamzee says it’s because he ‘wasn’t feelin’ the vibe from it, man’ and hides his fear. Tavros says ‘uh, that’s alright,’ and hides his desire to do it again, and again, and again.

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from some kink meme or another, yo. with minor edits.


End file.
